


you were my wish

by endofadream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes is officially 100, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, it's a Big Deal, obviously a no-civil war au, so Steve bakes him a cupcake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 09:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10214354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: “Stevie,” Bucky croaks, this time for a very different reason. The grin on Steve’s face grows broader. “You made me a birthday cupcake you stupid, sappy asshole.”“I did.” Steve’s beaming now, carefully climbing onto the bed and straddling Bucky’s thighs. “Thought my fella might like a little something sweet to wake up to the day he becomes a centenarian.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> can you all believe bucky barnes is finally a centenarian? he deserves it and deserves to have a happy birthday. (shameless self-plug: my birthday was three days ago and i feel so blessed to have a birthday so close to him.)

The first thing that Bucky notices is that the room has gotten colder overnight; the front that had been predicted must have moved in some time in the early morning. When he blinks open his eyes the light seeping in through the thick venetian blinds is dreary gray, a type of late winter damp coldness that permeates down to the bones.

The second thing is the distinct lack of a Steve-shaped warmth behind him. Flinging out his right arm Bucky finds that Steve’s side of the bed is cold. His brows furrow as he lifts his head and checks the clock. It’s only six; if Steve had gotten up for a run the bed would still be warm.

“Steve?” he croaks out in a sleep-worn voice. He rubs at his eye and yawns, sitting up. There’s a noise from the kitchen, the faint metallic clang of something falling, then Steve is calling out, “Bucky? You’re awake.”

Before Bucky can respond Steve is at the doorway, still in his pajamas and looking exhaustedly determined. In his hands, on one of their small dessert plates, is a single cupcake, big and fluffy, with a mountain of creamy white icing piped in an elaborate swirl. Perched jauntily, if a little crookedly, on top is a single candle lit aglow. It shadows Steve’s face, swaying with his breath. Bucky’s eyes widen. It's March tenth. He remembers that now.

“Is that—?” he starts to ask.

Steve’s lips unfurl a slow grin. He walks towards the bed, balancing the cupcake, and stops beside Bucky. Bucky looks down, looks up, down and up, then finally down.

“It is,” says Steve. The flame dances and flickers. “I got up at four to start, because you know how bad I am at baking. It took a lot of icing and a lot of horribly misshaped cupcakes, but I did it. Happy one hundredth birthday, Bucky.”

One hundred. One hundred years ago New York was half the size it is now. Steve hadn’t been born, the Dodgers were still Brooklyn’s team. One hundred years ago James Barnes was just a kid from an Irish family that had moved from Shelbyville, Indiana, to Brooklyn one year prior; no one knew his name or what he would become. The world was different.

He had forgotten about his birthday. Even growing up Bucky had never really cared. His family never had much money, and when his sisters were born he’d rather they get presents. It was just another day.

“Stevie,” Bucky croaks, this time for a very different reason. The grin on Steve’s face grows broader. “You made me a birthday cupcake you stupid, sappy asshole.”

“I did.” Steve’s beaming now, carefully climbing onto the bed and straddling Bucky’s thighs. “Thought my fella might like a little something sweet to wake up to the day he becomes a centenarian.”

“Ain’t you sweet enough?” asks Bucky, hands coming up to encircle Steve’s tiny waist.

Steve rolls his eyes, but Bucky sees him beginning to turn pink anyway. “Yeah, yeah. Lay it on thick, you jerk. I stayed up half the night making you this cupcake _just ‘cause_ it ain’t every day that your boyfriend turns one hundred.”

It’s so simple, but it hits Bucky like a combat boot to the chest. Steve uses more modern lingo now than Bucky does, especially since they’ve begun hanging around Clint more often, and most of the time Bucky rolls his eyes. But there’s something so innocent about boyfriends, like they’re two carefree lovers from his century rather than displaced, broken-down men from a time where there aren’t many of them left.

The room wobbles as tears gloss his eyes. Steve’s saying, “Oh, Bucky,” and Bucky’s waving him off, shaking his head.

“When I imagined turning one hundred,” he says, “long before the war, I expected to not be able to take a shit on my own.”

Steve snorts. Through his tears Bucky manages a bark of a laugh, saying, “Shut up, this is serious, Rogers. It’s true. And now, what, I get to wake up to my fella giving me a cupcake and looking like a damn day hasn't passed since 1944?”

“I’m a lot bigger now.” Steve bends and kisses away a tear that escapes the corner of Bucky's eye. His heart pounds out a disjointed rhythm that sounds a lot like  _I love you I love you._

“Nah, you’re still my scrawny little punk. Under all that padding is that mouthy troublemaker that I fell in love with in the thirties.”

Steve’s grin shifts from gleeful to intent, and Bucky’s belly curls in warmth as Steve scoots until he’s straddling Bucky’s hips. “Make a wish,” he says, holding out the cupcake.

They don't break eye contact as Bucky blows out the candle. There’s no need for a wish when it’s right in front of him.

Steve sets it on the nightstand, then rests his hands on Bucky’s chest. “Mouthy, eh?”

“The mouth on him,” agrees Bucky empathetically, clutching Steve’s waist a little tighter. “I tell ya, it’s gonna get him into trouble one of these days.”

“What, this mouth?” Steve asks, eyes fake-innocent wide. If Steve wasn't already kissing him Bucky would have laughed. But Steve’s mouth has a way of making you forget things, especially when he’s nibbling at Bucky’s upper and lower lip in turn.

“Mmm.” Bucky pulls back for a sharp breath. “All those times I had to haul guys three times your size offa you because you decided to run your trap.”

“Remember when I cussed out Frank DeMarco?”

Bucky snorts. Frank DeMarco had been an ogre of a boy, bigger than any kid in their grade. And Steve, impetuous Steve, had decided that he didn't like the way Frank ran his mouth about some of the gals and the poorer parts of the city.

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “I remember you nearly gettin’ your skinny ass whooped for cussing him out. You’ve always been a mouthy shit, Steve Rogers. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

Steve bends to kiss him with that big grin of his. A big bear paw of a hand slides around to cup the back of his head and urge him closer. Bucky goes, changing direction and taking control of the kiss, tilting his head and sweeping his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip before sliding it into his mouth. He tastes like lemon icing, sweet and bright and tart.

“Christ,” he says, tucking his head to nose at Steve’s neck. Steve hasn't showered yet, still smells like sweat and sleep and the fading remnants of cologne and body wash. Bucky clutches him closer, doesn't ever wanna let him ago again. “Christ. I love you so goddamn much.”

“Love you too, you old man,” Steve teases.

Bucky lifts his head up. “Who turns ninety-nine in July?”

“Captain America is ageless.”

“Oh, bullshit. You’re a dirty old man just like me.”

“So you want dirty, then?” It’s murmured low, just the right baritone to make Bucky’s heart kick up, get his dick pressing a little more firmly against his pajamas. A hand on the waistband, Steve scoots down until he’s straddling Bucky’s thighs again. Tugs it down, just enough to expose the dark thatch of hair nestled at the apex of the v of Bucky’s hips.

It’s Bucky’s turn to grin. “Just what I wanted,” he says, cupping his hands around Steve’s head. The metal gleams in the low light; Steve’s eyes are so bright, so blue. He’s so gorgeous, shadowed like this. “Birthday cupcakes and blowjobs.”

“Mm, blowjobs sound great,” Steve says, petting over Bucky’s hips, “but what if I told you that I wanted to fuck you instead?”

Bucky’s dick visibly jerks at that; while he moans Steve laughs, says, “Not many hundred-year-old men can say they can still get it up that quick.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky groans. Already his skin is buzzing, that deep ache throbbing low in his gut. “God, you know I ain’t gonna say no to getting jackhammered by Captain America.”

Steve presses his forehead against Bucky’s hip, close enough that his breath washes over the hard line of Bucky’s cock and has him squirming. Bucky can feel him shaking slightly, knows he’s laughing even as he says, “I change my mind.”

“No, no, no,” Bucky whines. “You can’t take away my birthday present.”

“I can if it’s my dick.”

“ _Stevie_. C’mon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Steve scoffs. “That’ll be the day.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s arms and tugs him up. “I find your lack of faith disturbing,” he intones when Steve is hovering over him, huge and imposing, entombing Bucky in the safety of his arms. He’s never gonna get over how Steve is now, how he can pick Bucky up and throw him around like he weighs nothing. He’d loved Steve just as much before, when he was little more than a slight shadow, but there’s just something about how he can cage Bucky in like this, bulky arms on either side of Bucky’s head.

Steve rolls his eyes, biting down a smile. “Nerd.”

“I love when you use modern vernacular. It turns me on.” Bucky wriggles, pushing his hips up. Steve’s dick is heavy and hard in his own sleep pants, hot where it brushes against Bucky’s own. They both moan, Steve ducking his head and Bucky wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck. “Fuck me? Please?”

"There's never gonna be a day when I don't want to fuck you." Steve kisses him, singeing and lingering, sucking on Bucky’s tongue and biting on his lower lip, drawing it back to make Bucky whine and lift his head. Steve bends again to nuzzle their noses together and murmur, “Happy birthday, baby. Here's to one more year free.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here!](http://endofadream.tumblr.com) reviews are very much appreciated.


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